Stray
by defibrillator
Summary: Obvious Mary Sue is obvious. Not to be taken seriously or even be considered good, I just needed to get it out of my system. Rated M for eventual sex. Shepard/Everyone. Combined trivial elements from ME1 with ME2 for convenience.
1. Chapter 1

It would have been another routine raid on a geth outpost. He'd done so many of them that they no longer held any excitement or danger for him. Hunting down Dropship-loads of synthetics was about as captivating as brushing his teeth. He wondered if there was any purpose to it anymore. It was good for killing time, but it wasn't actually crucial to saving the galaxy. The synthetics had power in numbers. No matter how much he chipped away at their bulk, they would still only create more. They processed information at the speed of light, and no amount of firepower was going to even put a dent in their numbers. At best, the annihilation of geth outposts would serve as a message to any hostile synthetics: _I do this for fun._ But it was mostly to kill time. It was decent target practice, and the gratification of a glitching Colossus just before its light faded out was rewarding enough.

He clenched his teeth against the paralyzing cold gusts of Antibaar and returned to the shuttle after a final survey of the area. Just as he began to signal his squad to get inside, the unmistakable sound of a Dropship approached, its hull blocking out the already snow-obscured sunlight. A quick glance estimated an Armature and about a dozen Shock Troopers, their presence camouflaged by their white armor against the swirling blizzard. He ducked for cover as synthetics rained down around him and sprang to their feet, only barely acknowledging the stray object that presumably fell from the Dropship just moments before the ship sped away, making an inconsequential impact into the snow. It was smaller than any geth he'd seen before, arguably more compact than even the Hoppers. It had no flashlight head that he could see, and after firing off a few rounds and taking out three of the troopers, he watched the stray object finally stir from its impact spot and struggle to its feet, stumbling into a flat-out sprint in the opposite direction of the synthetics.

Taking cover beside him, Garrus craned his neck over the barricade, squinting his eyes through the blinding snow. "What the...is that a _person_?" Shepard carefully aimed in the direction of the synthetics closest to the fleeing figure and fired, taking care not to hit the mystery organic. It was clearly an organic, that much was certain. Geth had a very unmistakable gait to their movement, and this intruder moved like no geth. Whether it was human or alien, and what they were doing on a Dropship was up for discussion, but he resolved to keep them out of harm's way until all of the geth were eliminated. He yelled out to warn the strange organic to duck as he saw the light in the Armature's head charge up, but they couldn't hear through the resounding gunfire or deafening winds. He winced as the fleeing figure took a Siege Pulse to the back, sending them flying forward with immense force and sprawling face down in the snow. He immediately holstered his heavy pistol and replaced it with the grenade launcher, accompanied by a concerned glance from Garrus. Shepard was notorious for taking synthetics out with mere tactical maneuvering and the clever use of his squad's combined biotic skills, and only ever resorted to heavy artillery when they were really desperate. He was a cautious man and liked to spare the rare ammunition. One glance in the direction of the fallen organic and Garrus knew this was a different occasion. Taking out the synthetics in a timely fashion was pertinent.

Garrus remained in cover as Shepard fired at the geth until he depleted his ammunition. Only two troopers remained, and he reloaded his heavy pistol and took them out with two direct shots to the head. The last Trooper hadn't yet collapsed to the ground when Shepard flung himself from cover and sprinted toward the fallen organic, ducking against the winds that threatened to knock him over. He slid down beside the limp figure, gently turning it onto its back. Human. Female. Perhaps not even old enough to leave home yet. Her lips were blue and her face was pale, and she was remarkably small, even for a human. He brought his ear to her chest, and after a long moment he was able to make out the sound of a faint, thready heartbeat over the deafening winds. Miranda jogged up behind him, and he shouted a hoarse "She's alive!" to her over his shoulder.

"Shepard, leave her, she was dropped from a geth ship!"

He whipped around and shot her a murderous glare. "You know me better than that, Miranda. There's no way I'm leaving a human out here to die!"

"She survived a Siege Pulse, Shepard! With no armor, even! That's suspicious enough to render me unsympathetic."

"Get to the shuttle, officer! If she's a plant, we can just shoot her later. I don't think she'll be that difficult to take down," he growled.

"You're not bringing her on board just to jeopardize our crew and our mission!" she argued. "I'm not allowing this. Leave her, Shepard!"

He clenched his jaw in impatience, debating with himself on whether he should risk the girl's safety by dropping her so he could punch the insubordinate officer. "There is a reason I never bring you on missions, Miranda. There is no time to argue. I am your commander and I gave you an order!"

She gave a resigned nod and petulantly stalked back to the shuttle. Shepard turned back to the unconscious figure and gently lifted her from the snow, carrying her almost valiantly back to the vehicle. He tore off his chestplate the moment they were within the safe confines of the Kodiak and pressed her tightly against his chest to warm her. Her breathing was shallow, but she responded subtly to his touch, her tiny cold fingers idly grasping at the fabric of his shirt for comfort. Her head turned inward, her face hidden in his chest as she began to shiver uncontrollably. Her breathing soon became erratic gasps as her lungs suffered the shock of the temperature change, and he gently rubbed his palm in circles over her back to open up her airways. He whispered generic reassurances in her ear, knowing that it didn't matter what he said, so long as he was speaking to her in a language she would find remotely familiar. He hoped she spoke English. He delicately lifted her away from his chest, tilting her back and slightly lifting her chin so that her trachea would open and allow more oxygen to pass into her lungs. He began rubbing circles into her chest as well, and after a few seconds of this, her shivering subsided. She fell against his chest again, her breathing almost returning to normal. He breathed a sigh of relief, catching the enhanced aroma of her snow-dampened hair. She smelled of something vaguely refreshing and smooth - mint, perhaps, with a hint of fresh laundry.

He winced as he replayed the image of her assault in his head, not wanting to think about how badly injured she must be underneath her clothes. A Siege Pulse was no picnic. She was so small and brittle, there was no way she would live much longer. He knew the injuries he'd suffered from being hit while wearing full armor, so there was no telling how fatal a hit could be to an unprotected human body. He lightly ran his palms over her, assessing any damage she might have suffered. _Broken_ was the only word he could use to describe it. It would be a miracle if she survived as far as the medical bay. A stunned Dr. Chakwas greeted him as he barreled through the automatic doors that couldn't open fast enough, and he reluctantly let her go so the doctor could get to work. He laid the girl out on a table, hovering nearby as Chakwas worked quickly and silently to stabilize her. For a long while it seemed she wouldn't make it. Tense and breathing heavily, Shepard waited for the moment Chakwas announced the girl's death, though it never came. If there was any doubt of Chakwas' prowess as a doctor, there was none now. The woman worked miracles. Weary and disheveled and still half-clad in armor, he hurriedly thanked her for her help along with protestations of her genius. The girl was stable for now, and would hopefully live long enough to at least get through a debriefing. He stayed around for a couple of hours to monitor her, anxious to be there when she awoke. She began shivering again on the cold metal of the table, so he courteously pulled her against his chest again, holding her head just over his heart until she relaxed.

"Your concern is noble, Shepard, but it is unlikely that she will wake up soon," Chakwas said softly. "Go get some rest. Trust me, when she wakes up, you'll be the first to know. You look like shit, Commander."

He gave her a grim smile and nodded, then disappeared to his quarters.


	2. Chapter 2

It was unclear how long he'd slept, but upon his return to the CIC, the crew was calm and showed no signs of unease toward the unidentified human onboard. They'd probably had enough time to gossip about it while he was out, and were too afraid to directly say anything to him about it. He had scarcely had time to open the galaxy map at the command console when a chilling scream resounded across the deck from the medical bay. He froze, his hairs standing on end. It wasn't a scream typical of a girl - not shrill or high-pitched at all, but rather gut-wrenching and grating, and indicative of insurmountable pain and terror. He wrenched himself from the console, brushing past a shaken Kelly Chambers as he sprinted through the doors and approached the flailing human on the table. Her eyes were watery and frantic, and the scream died in her throat as she came to her senses, immediately glancing about the room and assessing her surroundings. Her hand flew to the needles in her arms and meant to yank them free, but he steadied her with a firm but gentle grasp on her shoulders and guided her back down.

"Relax, no one's going to hurt you," he said softly. "You're safe here. And if you want to remove your tubes, at least let me do it. I've walked out of medical observation AMA enough times that I've had practice enough to take them out without doing significant damage." He added a fleeting, mischievous smile that seemed to at least momentarily put her at ease. She tensely nodded, and he delicately worked her arms free of the needles and tubes binding her. She seemed to relax under the touch of his warm fingertips, and he imagined he saw a fleeting smile flicker across her lips. The little pinpricks where the needles had been began to well up and form rivulets of blood down her arms, and he wasted no time acquiring antiseptic gauze to wipe them away. She watched him with an incredibly sober stare, and now that she was conscious and looking at him, he realized that he'd misjudged her age. Her small stature was misleading, though the eyes that watched him were eyes that had seen enough to carry some amount of wisdom. They were clear and unwavering, and their steely hue made her appear cold and distant, though the expression in them gave away nothing. He tried to speculate what she must be feeling, though no emotion shone through that he could see. The perfect poker face. He wondered if he should bring Kelly in to observe her, but he decided against it; she'd get her chance to evaluate the girl in due time. He backed away from her and kept his hands in sight, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

Doctor Chakwas appeared then, looking slightly disheveled and perplexed, as if she'd just been awakened. Shepard discreetly signaled to her to approach with caution, accompanied by a reassuring glance that he had the situation under control. She nodded once and remained in the doorway.

"What is this," the girl said flatly, her voice faltering.

"You're aboard the starship Normandy SR-2. I'm Commander Shepard, acting captain of this vessel."

She stared at him blankly for a full minute, and for a moment he thought that perhaps she didn't understand him, that her English was only rudimentary.

"Starship," she repeated hollowly. "Implying this is a spacefaring vessel?" Her tone was saturated with doubt.

"Of course."

"And I would assume we're in transit now?"

"Yes."

"In space."

"Yes."

"How is there gravity, then?"

His brow furrowed, and a quaint smile formed across his mouth. "Mass effect fields, of course," he answered matter-of-factly. "Surely you're aware of the technology used on spacefaring aircraft?"

She stared at him in disbelief. "_No_," she answered emphatically. "No, I don't. Because there _are_ no spacefaring aircraft. Not for living organisms, at least. What...the hell is a mass effect field?"

He narrowed his eyes and turned his head slightly, regarding her out of the corner of his eye. "Technology that's used for FTL travel though the manipulation of dark energy? ...How do you not know about mass effect fields?"

"_Dark energy_?" she sputtered. "You mean to tell me that you have the technology to manipulate dark energy? And FTL travel? No. There's no way. _How_ is that possible? That's not possible. Not yet, at least. We won't be capable of that kind of technology for - " she suddenly broke off, her eyes flashing with what looked like sudden realization. "Ohhhhhh..." she groaned. "Ohhhhhhhhh." She buried her face in her hands and shook her head.

" 'Oh?' " he repeated.

"What, uh. This is gonna sound like a left-field question, but just...humor me. What..._year_ is it?"

"What year is it?" he laughed, then abruptly cut it off at the glare she shot him. "It's 2185. The date is July 16th, 2185."

He watched her expression as what little colour remaining in her face drained away completely, and her pupils dilated in sudden panic. She swallowed dryly, her little hands subconsciously balling up into fists. "Twenty-one eighty-five," she gasped, trying to find her voice, then she suddenly lurched forward and clamped her hand over her mouth as she fought off a wave of panicked nausea. He quickly closed the distance between them and cautiously wrapped his hands around her shoulders to steady her, lightly running his thumbs over her skin as she began to tremble again.

"Yes, 2185," he said, ducking down a bit to catch her gaze. "What's so wrong with that?"

She only shook her head, her chest heaving as she attempted to catch her breath. He let it go for the moment and caught Kelly's attention through the window, waving her into the room as he attempted to comfort the trembling girl. It was evident that this was a situation that called for a proper debriefing, but there were other priorities to tend to, the first of which was better suited for his yeoman. This was as good a time as any to get that psych eval. He turned to Kelly without taking his hands off the girl and fixed her with a look of consternation. "Kelly, if you'd escort this young woman to my quarters and allow her to get cleaned up, I'd appreciate it. She can use my shower. Stay with her and assist her with anything she needs, answer her questions. She needs positive human interaction right now." His look was enough to convey the implied 'evaluate her to the best of your knowledge' in between his words. Kelly nodded once and led the girl away.


	3. Chapter 3

"No data available, Commander."

EDI's tranquil voice resounded in the room around them, and Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose for patience. Shepard and Kelly watched a holographic surveillance image of the girl now, who sat alone in the Communications Room with her head bowed. She resembled a girl awaiting her execution.

"None whatsoever? No missing persons reports in the past weeks, no identification at all?"

"I can find no records that match the unidentified human onboard."

"We're looking in the wrong places, then. There has to be _something_. Has Dr. Chakwas evaluated those blood samples yet?"

"She has not submitted them for analysis, Commander."

He sighed and shot Kelly an inquisitive glance. "What did you get from her in your evaluation?"

"Not much," she said, guiltily looking away. "No hometown - or home planet, for that matter - not even a name. She was very cautious with the things she told me. Like she was intentionally skirting around her identity with me. But...she did allow me enough that I could get a substantial evaluation of her, regardless. I must admit, Commander, I have reason to be alarmed."

"Why's that?"

"I'd need a more thorough examination, but from my evaluation of her, I'd safely assume that she has the makings to become dangerous. She hasn't shown any harmful tendencies _yet_, of course, but her brain works...differently. She's considerably detached from other humans, and it's like she doesn't have the mental capacity to process typical human emotion. She's capable of rudimentary emotions, like curiosity, irritation, confusion. But the only complex emotions she's capable of are the dangerous ones - rage, hatred. When encountering an unfamiliar emotion, she begins showing the same physiological signs indicative of panic or stress. Her brain can't process it so she begins to...glitch."

"Glitch?" His muscles noticeably tensed, and he surveyed her cautiously from the corner of his eye.

"Not a good word to be using in this context, but it's the only one I could find that would appropriately describe her reactions. It's like the potential is _there_, it's just not parsing correctly."

"She's human, though?"

"As far as Dr. Chakwas is concerned, yes. 100% organic. Not even so much as biotic capability. Her presence on the geth ship is a mystery, though the implications of her psychological profile are cause for concern."

"Well, she did just suffer considerable trauma."

"I know. I kept that in mind with my evaluation, but she mentioned situations and people from before the geth incident that implied that she was like this before the trauma. She has a remarkably resilient mind, though. Her recovery from the incident seems to be coming along rapidly, which would suggest that she is at least capable of _learning_ the proper emotions that she seems to be currently lacking. Her profile actually reminded me a lot of Jack's - they're so shockingly similar, that if I were an amateur I'd mistake them for the same person. The only difference is that this one is a lot more well adjusted and accepting of her situation. She's much more...stable. She just needs the proper encouragement. We could help her cope with those unfamiliar emotions that cause her mind to 'glitch' in the first place."

"Which sounds like no small feat," he muttered. "Did she tell you anything about what happened to her on the geth ship?"

"No. She doesn't even remember being on it. She says she's not sure how she ended up here, but she's not even sure she was on that Dropship."

They stared in silence at the feed of the girl, who was sitting slightly hunched over, her hands in her lap and her head still bowed. She surreptitiously turned her head to the left, then to the right, as if cautiously inspecting the room, though there wasn't much to inspect. She kept her head turned to the right for a moment, staring at something on the floor, though her body language gave away nothing that would indicate her thoughts or feelings.

"I suppose I should get on with the debriefing, then," he said, waving his omni-tool to close the image, but Kelly placed a hand over his arm to stop him.

"Don't," she said tensely. "Leave it up. If you don't mind. I'd like to keep an eye on you while you're in there."

He smirked. "You really think she's that dangerous? She's got the build of a sparrow, how much damage can she do?"

"I realize that, but if she was on that geth ship and is somehow a sleeper agent they've created, there's no telling what lengths they've gone as far as stealth is concerned. They could have a technology we don't know about. And I'd advise that you go in there armed."

His pistol was strategically concealed when he entered the Comm room moments later, and she stiffened and raised her gaze slowly to meet his as he came to stand before her, though she kept her head bowed. Her eyes still held no indication of emotion.

"I'll tell you everything you wish to know truthfully and to the best of my knowledge, but only as long as I do not feel threatened," she said assertively. She lifted her chin and looked at him directly, fixing him with that unnerving, sobering stare again. "Commander Shepard, is it?" He nodded. "Could you please remove your firearm, empty the chamber, and lay it on the table." She posed it as a question, but it sounded more like an order.

He stared at her blankly, his mind working frantically as he tried to figure out how she would know he was armed.

"_Please_," she emphasized again, nodding toward the table.

He reluctantly obeyed, then sat in the chair nearest to her, showing her his hands before laying them flat on the table.

"Thank you. You should know by now that I don't pose a threat to your crew. You have been watching me in this room for the past hour, after all."

His heart skipped a beat. "How did you know that? How did you know I was armed, for that matter?"

"Well, this room is designed for holographic imaging. It works both ways, constructing an image for the occupants or reconstructing an image for remote surveillance. According to the diffraction of point sources in this room, I would assume it can reconstruct the image of this entire room and its occupants for surveillance elsewhere on the ship. I recognize holographic optic lights when I see them, Commander."

He attempted to hold back the smile that tugged at his mouth, but he knew she noticed it anyway. "Fair enough."

"And as for your weapon...well, if I were you, coming in to debrief me, I'd come in armed as well." She was considerably tense, and sat as if she expected him to strike her any moment.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," he said softly. "You can relax."

"It's not you I'm afraid of, Commander. It's your fear that I'm afraid of. Humans do irrational things out of fear."

"You say that as if you're not one of them."

"No. I just understand how we work, as a race. I became self-actualized at a very young age, so I had nothing better to do than strive to understand my world more. And you're a weathered soldier, I can tell that much. Your scars that you wear like badges of honor, the way you move as if always ready to defend yourself, your subconscious habit of always keeping your hand near your weapon, even if there isn't one there. You've been in enemy lines too often for comfort. I imagine your resolve is worn very thin right now."

He was stricken into silence by her accurate assessment of him, and he began to doubt Kelly's evaluation of the girl. If this girl was that adept at analyzing a complete stranger in just a few minutes, she probably had the ability to counterfeit an entire psych eval even with someone as skilled as Kelly.

"You're no stranger to combat, yourself," he countered. "The first thing you do when in an unfamiliar environment is assess all the exits. You count the number of occupants in the vicinity and you brace for attack."

She snorted and turned away. "I'm surprised you noticed that."

"I'm surprised you assumed I _wouldn't_."

"Touché. It's not a habit from combat, for what it's worth. It's just a habit from...well, let's just say I didn't have the happiest childhood." She glanced at him and gave a little laugh at his look of surprise. "You're wondering why yeoman Chambers didn't tell you that. It's because I didn't tell her. I only told her as much as she needed to know. I figured that fact would bias her evaluation of me."

He had a feeling that conversations with this girl would leave him looking perpetually surprised. "So you knew she was psychoanalyzing you."

"Of course. I'm privy to leading questions and profiling. I went to college a couple times, it inevitably led me to an advanced psych class or two. It's okay, you're just taking the necessary precautions that any commanding officer would. And I know she's still watching us right now as well. That is fine with me."

He paused for a moment, sending an apologetic glance in the direction from which Kelly was bound to be watching. "So you mentioned you attended university? Let's start there. Mind telling me where? What year did you graduate?"

She looked down and smiled nervously. "Yeah, see. That's where it gets tricky."

"Why's that?"

"I guess this is the part where we just skip to the introduction. Before I begin, I ask that you leave your mind open and listen to reason."

He furrowed his brow but nodded once.

"When you brought me aboard, you had to have noticed that I was wearing fabrics not customary with the fashions of this time, yes?"

"Now that you mention it, I suppose you were, yes."

"And my speech. I'm using a vernacular slightly unfamiliar to you, no? I must sound to you what a Victorian gentleman would have sounded to me."

"I'm not entirely sure where you're going with this, but yes, your speech patterns are a little odd. It isn't readily noticeable, but conversationally, Chambers said you had an odd quirk to your speech. What does that have to do with anything?"

She took a deep breath and returned her sobering stare on him. There was a reddish purple tint around her eyes, a bruising effect that would have looked ghastly had it not blended so well with her complexion - a shade that reminded him of the smooth underside of a seashell - and he noted that she was rather pretty in a very unconventional sort of way. She looked fatigued, yes, but rather radiantly so. He was about to remark on it and ask if she required more rest, but she began to speak again.

She exhaled slowly and unevenly, her hands balled up into fists again as she tried to hide their shaking. "My name is Maike Augustine. I was born in Aabenraa, Denmark on December thirteenth...nineteen eighty-five." She paused for a moment, giving him just enough time to react before continuing: "I became a citizen of the United States on May fifteenth, year two thousand. I received my first degree in twenty-oh-six, my second in oh-eight. And the last I remember, the year was twenty-ten before I was hurled into a pile of snow on a planet that I have severe doubts was Earth."

There was a long silence as he searched her face for any sign of insincerity, but her stare conveyed nothing but a grave sense of the impact of her words, and even if her assertion was false, she genuinely believed it herself. Before he could question her further, the spherical indicator of EDI's interface manifested before them, causing the girl to jump an entire foot backward in her chair, her hands gripping the arm rests so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"Maike Augustine, born in Aabenraa, Denmark, December 13, 1985," EDI confirmed. "Bachelor of arts degree in anthropology from the University of Texas at Dallas, achieved year two-thousand-six. Bachelor of science degree in mathematics, with an emphasis in computer science from Brown University, achieved year two-thousand-eight." Images of her documentation appeared on a holographic screen before them as EDI named them off, accompanied by images of undeniable picture identification, all dated late twentieth and early twenty-first century. Texas driver's license, United States Passport, alcoholic beverage seller license, permanent resident visa, university IDs, they were all there. Shepard watched in stunned silence as the AI verified the legitimacy of the girl's claims. "Reported missing November 18th, 2010. My initial scans of the girl's height, weight and initial bone structure are a match for the girl in the missing person's report. Doctor Chakwas' analysis of the blood samples confirms her identity."

Shepard looked from the images of the girl's documentation, then to the girl's face, and he winced at the look of unadulterated shock in her eyes. He searched for something to say, but there were so many questions racing through his head that he had no idea where to begin.

"My god," she whispered before he could say anything. "Is that..._is that an AI_?"

The words _bachelor of science degree in mathematics, with an emphasis in computer science_ echoed in his head. He couldn't resist his smile, and he nodded slowly. "Yes, it is. Her name is EDI. She will answer any questions you have concerning her software."

She enthusiastically turned to him, her eyes wide. "That's incredible," she gasped.

"But if what EDI says is accurate - and it always is - _how in the hell_ did you end up here? And _why_."

Maike's look of intrigue and wonder fell into one of consternation, and she shook her head. "That's just it," she whispered. "_I don't know_. If I did, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I thought that maybe you'd be able to answer those questions for me, but you seem to be just as clueless as I am. And besides, the implications would suggest..." She trailed off and laughed. "Time travel. And that's just...not...possible. I don't care what technology you may have developed in the hundred and seventy-five years I've missed, but _time travel_? It just isn't possible. Not in the physical universe _we_ occupy, at least. In our particular time-space continuum...no. Just - no. Time travel implies that time is linear, and stationary, neither of which are even remotely true. I'm as in the dark as you are, Commander."

The charmed smile twitched the corners of his mouth again, and he marveled at how lucky he was that she was at least a rational visitor from the past, and not a primitive one. She was particularly technologically adept for two hundred years old. It was a good start. "What was the last thing you remember before ending up here?" he pressed.

"Nothing. That's what's so remarkable about this. I remember going to sleep and then waking up in free-fall. I saw absolutely nothing. There was nothing unusual or notable about the conditions in which I'd been previous to the incident that would suggest this happened in nature or otherwise. I'm just so doubtful of the time travel theory that I wouldn't be adverse to ruling it out entirely. There has to be some other explanation."

"And you have no recollection of being on the geth Dropship?"

"No. I don't even know what a geth Dropship _is_, but I assume it's something that causes you a great deal of concern?"

He pursed his lips and nodded. "You could say that. If you were a master of understatement."

"Are you even sure that I came from the Dropship? I assume if I'd actually been on it, they would have tried to kill me. But they didn't until I fell, which implies they hadn't seen me before then. Did anyone actually witness me fall _from the Dropship_?"

He thought for a moment. "No, now that you mention it. You just fell. We only assumed it was from the ship. And you were indeed attacked by an Armature, but that still doesn't explain how you survived a Siege Pulse. That fall alone should have _vaporized_ you, notwithstanding the geth assault. With no protective armor, no less."

"Well it certainly hurt like a bitch. It still does. And for what it's worth, I'm wondering the same thing you are. Your doctor is talented, to put me back together the way she did. And your technology is unbelievable. But as far as the...siege - pulse? No clue how I survived it. But I see where this is leading and if you think I'm some sleeper agent planted in your vicinity by these...geth...then I can assure you that - to the best of my knowledge - I'm not. ...To the best of my knowledge. Although I do admit, if they're as ruthless and cunning as you and your crew imply, anything is possible. Including them keeping even me in the dark about it. I guess...we'll just have to take our chances."

Regardless of the possibility of her assessment, he trusted her. She was considerably rational, especially for someone who had just undergone severe trauma and who was presumably two hundred years old. "That's agreeable enough for me," he said with a smile. "My crew will assist you with any questions you might have, and EDI can fill you in on the technical bits. I'm sure you'll be interested in those, no?"

"Oh, absolutely." There was an enthusiastic gleam in her eyes indicative of a childlike sense of wonder. "And aliens! Your yeoman implied that we've made first contact?"

"We have."

"And there are aliens on your crew?"

"Yes."

"Can I meet them?"

"Absolutely. You'll probably want to start with Tali down in engineering. She's a quarian. I think you'll find that race most...relevant to your interests. She can also fill you in on the technology we're using now."

"That would be amazing, thank you. I've got a lot of catching up to do."

"I suppose we're done here, then. Is there anything you want to ask me?"

She thought for a moment. "Actually, yeah. It's kind of an awkward question, but...why did you rescue me in the first place? You didn't have to take that chance. It was in hostile territory and I'm of questionable origin as it is. Regardless, it wasn't your objective."

"I wasn't going to just leave you there. In those conditions? It may have been almost two hundred years since last you checked, but humans are still human. I couldn't in good conscience just leave you to die."

"I suppose, but...it was the way you did it, though. I was still somewhat conscious when you rescued me, and you were...remarkably careful. Almost affectionate. Any other soldier would have just grabbed me and hoisted me over their shoulder. Unless I was delirious at the time, I seem to remember...you _held_ me. Why?"

He slightly lifted his chin in a half-nod of understanding and smirked as he looked down at his hands. He would have blushed if he were a bashful man, but he wasn't. "When I was in Alliance military training, part of that training was dealing with refugees and victims of interspecies trauma. After we made first contact, it was pertinent that precautions and methods of damage control were taken for these situations. In cases involving interspecies trauma, there's a higher success rate of recovery if the victims are handled properly from the moment of rescue. Familiarity is the first step to comfort. Humans will feel more comfortable with other humans, and as such, we're to...exaggerate our humanity, as it were. Holding you against my chest would ensure that you could feel my body heat, hear my heartbeat. Not to mention, you were _freezing_."

She suddenly became very still then, and straightened herself before slowly easing back into her seat. She averted her eyes and looked down at her hands, which were lying flat on the table in front of her as if to steady herself. Shepard watched in confusion as the color drained from her face and she started to shake, her breath coming in short gasps. He leaned forward and laid his hand over hers, which she jerkily withdrew.

"Miss Augustine? What's wrong, what's happening?"

She shook her head. "I don't know," she breathed. "It - happens - occasionally."

_When encountering an unfamiliar emotion, she begins showing the same physiological signs indicative of panic or stress._ Kelly's evaluation resounded through his head, and he eased up from his seat and approached her as cautiously as possible. "I'm going to touch you now, is that okay?" he asked gently.

She regarded him suspiciously out of the corner of her eye, but eventually nodded, her hand gripping the edge of the table, her knuckles white. He laid his hands lightly on her shoulders, resting his thumbs on the back of her neck and making subtle, concentric circles there to calm her. He had no idea what he was doing, but he figured there was no harm in taking a chance. _We could help her cope with those unfamiliar emotions that cause her mind to 'glitch' in the first place._ "You're experiencing an emotion your mind doesn't know how to process," he explained, wondering if Kelly already had this conversation with her, or if she merely saved it for her report to him. "Unfamiliar emotions translate as panic to you, no?"

"Is that what that is?" she said, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

"Tell me what it feels like."

"What?"

"What you're feeling now. Describe it to me."

"If I could, I don't think this would be happening." Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.

His thumbs continued their gentle circles on the back of her neck, and he lightly squeezed her shoulders at sporadic intervals, feeling her tense muscles loosen in his grasp. Her skin was unbelievably soft, and it was a delightful sensation under his fingertips. "Try," he coaxed.

She was silent for a moment as she tried to get her breathing under control, subconsciously leaning into his comforting touch. "Like...when you're going down the stairs and you miss a step," she finally answered, her voice nothing more than an exhausted sigh. "And your heart and stomach are suddenly somewhere up here." She gestured with a flat hand across her throat.

He couldn't resist the smirk that broke across his face, recognizing the emotion she described and feeling rather flattered by it. "Did it ever occur to you not to fight it?" he asked softly, masking the amusement in his voice rather well. "You're trying to fight it and you don't even know it, which is why these emotions control you the way they do. You try to make your head guide you when sometimes you should just humor your heart."

"_Why?_" Her tone implied it was the most absurd suggestion she'd ever heard.

"Because that's what separates you from the synthetics. It's what makes you human. And also because...it will feel good."

"That can't be true."

"Trust me. And if I'm wrong, you have my blessing to harm me in any way you see fit. You don't have to concentrate so hard on unfamiliar emotions. Just...let it happen."

"I don't - know - how," she gasped.

"Breathe," he answered simply. "You could start by breathing. Take a deep breath and just let it out slowly. Close your eyes." He felt her stiffen beneath his touch, but he continued to massage her shoulders. "You can trust me, just close your eyes. Don't think about it. Don't think at all. If you think, you'll be inclined to fight it."

She complied, and he felt her muscles loosen in his grip almost instantly. Her head fell back against him, her eyes still closed and a little crease forming between her puckered brows. He smiled briefly at the sweetness of it, surprised that it had actually worked. His thumbs distractedly continued their circular patterns on the back of her neck, and he would have persisted indefinitely had she not wrapped her cold little hands around his wrists to politely stop him. "Thank you," she said quietly.

He wanted her to say more, though he knew she wouldn't. He knew her type well enough that she was likely embarrassed and too proud to talk about it any further. "I should get you back to the med bay," he said, his voice subdued. "Chakwas is probably pissed that I debriefed you so soon."

"She'll get over it. Besides, I don't want to go back there. It's cold in that room and I dislike it."

"Fair enough. Are you hungry, then? You seem a little fatigued."

She turned her head to look up at him, her brows creased as she seemed to consider it for a moment. "I'm frigging starving, actually," she answered, as if only just noticing. "I haven't eaten in" - she scoffed - "a hundred seventy-five years."

They were greeted by a slightly bemused-looking Kelly as they emerged from the Comm room, who leaned in close to whisper in Shepard's ear. "What the hell was that?" she hissed. "You're literally flirting with disaster."

"It worked, didn't it?" he countered sheepishly. "Why, are you jealous?" He shot her his typical infuriating grin, the one none of the women on the Normandy could ever resist and that had saved him from a scorned woman's wrath countless times.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "You know it."

He ran his fingers across her cheek as he backed away from her in the direction of the mess hall, cocky grin still firmly in place. "You're next, dear."

She rolled her eyes again but couldn't turn away in time to hide the smile that broke her contemptuous glare. She resolved to leave them alone for now.

Minutes later, Shepard was seated across from Maike in the mess hall, a temporary silence hanging over them as Shepard attempted to find something to say. He had dozens more questions for her, but there was the matter of where to begin and what would be considered appropriate preventing him from questioning her further. Instead, he furtively watched her as she dined, noting that she even _ate_ prettily, if that was possible. The way she held her fork and chewed her food seemed almost effortlessly deliberate. She had a very quaint little mouth, and the innocence of it offset the coldness of her eyes.

"After you've gotten some rest, I'll have Joker plot a course to Illium so we can see a friend of mine. She may be able to help you get some answers, get you back home," he said finally.

Maike paused, staring down at her nearly empty food tray with pursed lips. She then slowly put her fork down, pushed her tray away, and fixed him with _that gaze_ again, only this time it wasn't quite as unreadable and expressionless as before. This time it held a sort of warm tranquility, which unnerved him even more than when it had been devoid of emotion entirely. "Don't," she said with the tiniest of smiles. "You don't have to lie to comfort me. I'm not worried about that anyway. Don't waste your time with that nonsense, you have much bigger priorities."

The shock must have been apparent on his face, for she laughed heartily and continued. "Commander. You must know by now that I am a realist. I understand how these things work, and however the hell I got here, it was likely a one-way trip. I'm very aware that there is no going back for me. I'm stuck here, so I might as well make the most of it. I realized that _the moment_ I understood where - _when_ - I was. And I made my peace with it, accepted it. It's only natural that you should, too. You've done more than enough to help me, and you have my sincerest gratitude. You've done everything you can."

"You can't know for certain," he pressed. "We are capable of doing the impossible."

She shook her head. "Not with this, though. EDI, love? Can you tell me - was I ever found after I went missing?"

Shepard opened his mouth to order EDI not to answer the question, but he didn't react soon enough. "No. No body was ever recovered and you were declared a cold case. Your disappearance remained an unsolved mystery."

Maike smirked briefly, making Shepard suddenly appreciate the term 'shit-eating grin.' "I guess that confirms it," she said with a shrug. "I never returned. Obviously I stayed here."

"And that doesn't terrify you?"

She smiled, and for the first time, it reached her eyes. "No. Should it?"

"It's a very dangerous time and place, Miss Augustine."

She laughed then, a short, light-hearted chuckle. "Which is no different than the place I came from. This is actually more exciting than terrifying. You're doing things that in my time, we only ever _dreamed_ of doing. I never thought I would see any of these things happen in my lifetime. You have to understand, I come from a time that was remarkably technologically stagnant. I was so frustrated with my world, that the simplest luxuries were hindered by weak, outdated moral dogmas or poor prioritizing or the simple lack of imagination or creativity to bring them to fruition. I don't know how much historical pop culture trivia they teach you lot in school these days, but you must consider that I come from a world that celebrated mediocrity and promoted sycophancy. Excellence was discouraged. It wasn't a time when the person with the best work ethic or superior skills or intellect were allowed advancement. We were shunned, ostracized. We were seen as a threat, not as an asset. They were backward times, Commander. To you, in hindsight, it seems like an outrage, but to us, it was a simple fact of life. And since I was born a couple centuries too soon and with a mind prone to a more advanced way of thinking, I was alone in my discontent with the way things were. No one would understand. People lacked ambition or the critical thinking to come up with their own solutions or ideas or opinions. I come from a world that couldn't even get its own civil liberties right _within its own race_, so you can imagine my delight at having suddenly been thrust into a world where FTL travel is not only possible, but practiced regularly, and interspecies diplomacy is a reality. Back then, we fought wars for petty reasons that were quickly forgotten or deemed irrelevant but ironically never ended the war. At least in your world, wars are fought for good, legitimate, _noble_ reasons. Your world _fascinates_ me. It's an oasis in a desert of hopelessness, and frankly, even if it were possible for me to somehow get back, _I wouldn't want to_. I have no desire of ever returning there. I hated the time I was in, hated my world with such fervor that I likely would have gone insane and killed many people. I say that with the utmost sincerity, too, and I'm sure yeoman Chambers will attest to that. This is where I belong, Commander. It just feels right. For once, I finally feel like I'm home."

Shepard stared at her in silence, making no effort to hide his stunned expression. Maike quickly looked away. If there had been any doubt in his mind before, there was none now - this girl was _brilliant_. He was slightly disappointed that she wasn't an accurate representation of the typical early-21st-century girl, but the novelty of it didn't seem all that appealing by her description of it anyway. Regardless, her courage was admirable and her logic was reasonable. It wasn't until his face began to hurt that he realized he'd been beaming stupidly at her like a proud parent.

"So what will you do now, then?" he asked finally.

She shook her head. "I don't know. I'm sure I'll catch on to your technology rather quickly. As time progresses, technology becomes exponentially more advanced and as such, more user-friendly. Out of all the habitable planets in the galaxy, there's bound to be one with someone who will find something relevant for me to do. I suppose we could start with - Illium, was it? - perhaps we should make a stop there after all."

Shepard nodded. "We _could_ do that. Or - and this is entirely up to you - you could...stay here."

She quickly glanced back up at him, her head jerking a fraction of an inch to the left. "Stay here? You mean on the Normandy?"

"Well, it's a big ship."

"Are you suggesting I join your crew?"

"It's entirely up to you," he reassured her, as if he expected her to find the concept particularly distasteful. "You do have a particular set of skills that until now, have been unrivaled by any crew member I've ever served with. You are a unique case, and as Commander, it would be careless for me to ignore that."

She seemed to consider it for a moment, then slowly nodded her head. "Well, I mean, if you would have me..."

"Without hesitation. We'd be honored to have you. Welcome aboard, Miss Augustine."


	4. Chapter 4

She spent the week familiarizing herself with the ship and spending most of her time reading historical articles on the extranet, catching up on past and recent events with the rest of the crew. They'd all been cordially helpful, though the inevitable feeling of awkwardness at being the mysterious stranger always lingered, resulting in her developing a rather amicable relationship with EDI. She found EDI much easier to talk to, and the irony of that fact wasn't lost on her. EDI was better at explaining things succinctly, and she didn't have to relentlessly remind the AI to stop oversimplifying things or treat her like a layman. She wondered if everyone truly believed her to be as primitive as they let on, or if they simply _wanted_ her to be and assumed that treating her as such would make it so.

The technology was just as adaptable as she'd expected, and now she delicately held Garrus' targeting visor in one hand and a small pair of tweezers in the other as she attempted to modify it. She didn't look up when she heard the door slide open behind her, taking extra caution in rewiring the device. She sat back in satisfaction as the optic rotated and flashed twice, indicating it was back in working condition.

"Shepard," she said finally, keeping her eyes on the visor as she closely inspected the names carved into the frame. "What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to check in with you and see how well you were acclimating. Is the crew treating you well?"

"They've been considerably helpful."

"You know you're allowed to talk informally with me. I'm not a hard-ass like most ship captains."

She gave a light-hearted laugh and set the visor down, slowly turning in her chair to face him. "Yeah, I think I may have heard that a few times. Honestly, you want my opinion?" Her eyes rolled back in her head and she leaned back in mock frustration, her hands clenching into little fists. "_I want to fuck everyone on this ship_."

Shepard laughed as he took the seat adjacent to her, her casual tone catching him by surprise. "Really? Any primary contenders in mind?"

"I don't know, man. Thane and Garrus have some pretty overwhelming sex appeal. Although I get the impression you've got dibs on Garrus, you guys seem to have a pretty tight bromance going on."

"'Tight bromance'?" he repeated, then laughed. "You're so classic."

"You think so? Because the general consensus is that it's slightly annoying. No one ever understands what the hell I'm saying."

"I think it's charming. As far as Garrus is concerned, he's just an old whore anyway. Thane might take a little work, on the other hand. He comes with baggage."

"I know," she said enthusiastically, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "He told me about it. The flawed ones are always the most fun to play with." She closed her eyes in sudden regret, immediately realizing the candor of her tone. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate. I...tend to objectify men. And women. It's an old habit that's been really hard to break."

"Well, at least you can admit to it," he said sardonically. "I take it you're finding yourself attracted to aliens, then?"

She shrugged. "Meh. As long as it's gorgeous or intriguing enough, race and gender are entirely irrelevant."

"You sound a lot like Kelly."

Maike regarded him from the corner of her eye and nodded. "She still giving you regular status reports on me? You can tell the truth, I won't get paranoid about it."

He smiled and nodded slowly. "She is. They're pretty neutral reports anyway. She doesn't think you're crazy or unbalanced. A little detached, and strangely too in tune with modern technology and culture, but it's a sign that you're adapting well."

"Ah, well. I was emotionally unavailable back then too. And a massive prick. I haven't been given reason to be a douche recently, but if Kelly ever saw how much of an elitist prick I was back then, she'd probably blow me out the airlock."

"It'll be our little secret then," he said, leaning back in his chair. He seemed to think for a moment then, and slightly raised an eyebrow. "You implied earlier that you'd heard things about me from the crew. Anything interesting?"

She pursed her lips together and looked away, possibly the closest to a blush he figured he'd ever see on her.

"That can't be good," he teased. "Are the rumors that bad?"

"Actually, no," she said quietly. "They've mostly been unbelievably _good_. Your crew loves you. They trust you and feel safe with you in their command. From the sounds of it, they'd follow you through hell and back. Regardless of the fact that you're something of a philanderer, you make up for it by being such a gentleman about it that it's kind of nauseating."

"Philanderer," he said, choking out a laugh.

"Well. The women on your crew prefer the term 'playboy,' but I figured philanderer was funnier."

"But I'm nauseatingly gentlemanly, how flattering."

She smirked. "My words, not theirs. At least you don't hide it. Your appreciation for women, that is. You're the type of guy to tell every woman you meet that you love her, but your problem is that you genuinely mean it every time. You don't discriminate and can find beauty in anything. You're rational and listen to reason, you're diplomatic and understanding, and you exhibit an overwhelming sense of compassion. You're charming, and warm, and you have a...big heart." She winced as she said it. "Those were your crew's words, not mine. Although I would know, I listened to it for the better part of an hour-long shuttle ride," she added, rolling her eyes.

He smirked, cocking his head to the side as he considered what she said. "They said all that, did they?"

"You seem to be the perfect human," she said with a shrug.

He scoffed and shook his head. "I am certainly not perfect," he said quietly, wincing inwardly as the words _butcher of Torfan_ echoed in his head. He took a deep breath and composed himself, noticing her speculating him closely from the corner of his eye.

"Everyone has demons, Shepard," she said, seemingly reading his mind. "At least you make an effort to get past them and make up for it with better choices. ...Your crew that was with you on the last Normandy told me that you smile a lot more now," she said, her voice suddenly taking a softer edge. "They said that back then you were reckless and unsure of yourself, but after you...died...you came back with a chip on your shoulder for the Reapers but were overall a much more assertive and caring man."

"I grew up a lot in the past two years," he said softly. "I changed. And what about you, then? Have you developed your own opinion?"

She shrugged again and shook her head. "I've seen no evidence that would cause me to refute the claims of your crew. You're a good dude, Shepard. No matter how much you try to hide it behind your bed-hopping habits, I can spot a saint when I see one, bro."

"I'm not a fucking saint."

"But you will be. I give it a century after your death, at most. They'll canonize you. They pretty much have to, at this point. Savior of humanity? Especially with your personality...it's unavoidable. Don't play the modesty card, either. Look at me. I'm bad. I am pure, unadulterated evil. You don't believe me because you haven't seen reason to think so. But I'm the worst possible example of a human being there is. I'm a wealth of cynicism and hatred and judgmental pride. So I at least pride myself in noticing my polar opposite - which is you. You're a saint in the making, Commander. Regardless of how much you like to get laid," she added with a smirk.

"And ironically, you seem to have no problem with it. Most women take a while to accept it, at least."

"I tend to follow the same polyamorous habits as you. What I see as a virtue, convention sees as a vice. I have a genuine appreciation for men. Monogamy ruined my last relationship as a result. I just don't like the finality of it, or the sense of ownership. My parents taught me to share, and I apply that principle to everything in life. And you're man enough that there's enough of you to go around, so everybody wins."

He smiled at the comment. "So how'd you end that last relationship, then?"

She looked away and sighed. "It would seem I mysteriously disappeared. It probably broke his heart a lot more than it would have if I'd had to break it off myself, but I'm glad it spared me the agony of figuring out how to do it without being a big asshole."

"Wait...you mean you were in a serious relationship just before you ended up here?"

"It ceased being serious long before then, anyway. I was only pretending for the last six months of it. I desperately wanted out but couldn't do it out of a sense of obligation to him. It's not like he was abusive or an asshole or anything. I just couldn't bear the thought of being with only him, and I get bored so quickly. Hopefully he eventually found someone who could give him what I couldn't."

"And what was that?"

She paused, clenching her jaw as she stared into empty space. "Love. I don't know love. I can give respect where it's due, perhaps even admiration - trust, even - but love was not in my programming." She winced. "...Probably not the best word to use there, but you get what I mean."

"And why can't you love? Did something happen to you?"

She gave a derisive snort and shook her head. "If I knew that, I don't think I'd have this problem. I could play the abusive childhood card, but I've seen plenty of people with similar histories who are perfectly human. I think I may have been born this way. I can see your crew's apprehension towards me, at any rate. I understand your machines better than I understand your organics. Even the geth..."

He suddenly straightened, his hands slowly finding the arms of the chair and gripping the edges tightly. "Yes...?"

"I'm sorry. You don't have to be nervous, I just...I've done some research on them, considering that they almost killed me...I wanted to know what they were. I always had a bit of an affinity for machines. The Terminator franchise was, like, my thing. I was obsessed with it. So...I just. I have a problem with how they became hostile. The _quarians started it_. This isn't Skynet randomly getting angry and throwing a bitch fit on Earth. What's saying this couldn't have had a peaceful outcome had the quarians not let them evolve naturally and set them free if they requested it? What could the quarians have possibly thought would happen? You create a race of AIs, they're bound to become sentient. Naturally they begin to become curious and ask unnerving questions and the quarians get scared but in some futile attempt to send the geth to Bel-Air they frigging end up persecuting an entire species and turn them against the galaxy. That's...that's fucking racist! How can you justify that? I know the quarians have suffered limitless hardships in the interim since the loss of their homeworld, and I have such a hard time blaming them because Tali...precious, lovely Tali, my god, I fucking adore her so much, I'd make out with her for hours if I could get past the helmet but...there's no telling how this could have turned out had the quarians just...let the geth go. _What would have happened_? Shepard, what would have happened? Coexistence was still a possibility, I mean, I just don't get it! How could you do that to an entire race? Preemptive strike on a race that you've underestimated, it's just...it's begging for disaster. For christ's sake, _we_ learned that in the Revolutionary War! I mean..._fuck_!"

She paused to catch her breath, but Shepard only smiled at her, relaxing in his seat a little. "I had the same debate with Tali back when I first brought her into my crew. I was a lot gentler about it, though. But I understand your point, and I think you underestimate yourself when it comes to compassion. There's a human in there, you just like to ignore her a lot until there's something passionate enough to inspire her."

She scoffed. "Yeah, I guess."

"And I _really_ need to study up on early twenty-first century slang," he added lightly. "It's still amusing to hear you talk, for what it's worth. It's like living in a classic film. And as far as Tali's concerned, it's difficult _not_ to adore her. Although I'm the only one she cares to make out with," he said with a cocky grin.

"Naturally," she muttered.

"'Naturally?'" he repeated.

She smirked, casually resting her chin in her palm as she openly inspected him. It wasn't a flirtatious gaze, but rather an expression of candid scrutiny, the way a person studied a particularly pleasing painting. She appreciated the way his officer's uniform hugged his chest and narrowed gracefully at the waist, the perfectly pressed stripe down the side of his trousers that fit snugly around his toned thighs, the way his collar enticingly framed his throat, the assertiveness of his posture even when he was casually slouching, the glimpse of his wrists just beneath the hem of his sleeves. He was a sturdy man, but remarkably esteemed at the same time. Her eyes came to rest on the Cerberus logo on his chest, and she was suddenly hit with the vivid recollection of the sound of his heart beating steadily in her ear when he'd brought her aboard the ship. She gasped at the arbitrary memory and flinched it away, attempting to cover up her reaction with a casual shrug. "You're the big dumb swashbuckling hero, who _wouldn't_ want you," she answered finally.

He couldn't suppress his grin, unsure how to react at being so openly objectified yet in such a polite manner. "How very astute," he said with a laugh. "And here I assumed you didn't see me that way."

"I gave that impression, did I? Ah well. I've never been good at expressing myself. Regardless, I mean, I can recognize." She pronounced it oddly. _Reckinize_.

He furrowed his brow and cocked his head slightly to the side. "I'm sorry, I'm having trouble inferring the meaning of that vernacular..." His expression was one of genuine apology, as if he assumed she expected him to understand a dialect two hundred years before his time.

She met his inquisitive gaze with a good-natured smile, rolling her eyes at her own candor. "I mean, I can objectively appreciate why you would be considered conventionally desirable, even if my own personal tastes differed. How 'bout that?"

"Ah, that makes sense, then. For what it's worth, it's impressive how attuned you are to perspective. You're very cultured, especially for a person two centuries out of her time."

"You're not so bad yourself, Commander. You're surprisingly noble for a vagabond spacer." She flashed him just enough of a coy smile to offset her usual lofty demeanor, which left him smiling stupidly for the rest of the day.


End file.
